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by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Episode Tag, F/M, Gen, Gen or Pre-Het, The Weeping Lady, inner musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichabod's life collapses down around him as Abigail Mills drowns in that library.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeah, I know, there's a ton of fanfiction for this scene, but that's because it was a wonderful scene and I wanted to write about it too, so here you go.
> 
> [Also my 100th story on AO3! Woohoo!]
> 
> I do not own _Sleepy Hollow_. Thanks for reading!

Ichabod doesn't know what alerts him to the danger. It isn't the people suddenly exiting the library, it isn't the whispers that follow them. But something does, something deep-set into his bones that urges him forward. It's the whisper in his head that says _where's Abbie?_ that makes his attention drop away from the books he's looking for and turn around. But then he catches the word ‘gun’ in the throng exiting the library, and his heart speeds up in his chest.

"Lieutenant?" he calls, dropping the book on the American Revolution (so what if he gets distracted, this library and its infinite knowledge...!) and turning back to where he last saw the Lieutenant. Instead of following the crowd out, he darts in the direction that they come from. "Lieutenant?"

And instead of the Lieutenant, he sees water on the floor, a giant puddle spreading and splashing. His heart doesn't drop to his knees because there shouldn't be a small lake in the library, but because the Lieutenant is nowhere to be found. Everything crashes down upon him at once and he jolts from his brief, shocked, inaction.

"Lieutenant!"

The panic spreads, bone-chilling and heavy, from the center of his chest, settling into the pit of his stomach and he has to be imagining that it's making him move slower. He crashes to his knees next to the pool of water, thrusting his arm into the water. He can't feel anything, just the cold wetness against his fingers, and his thoughts turn more frantic.

It isn't because he can't stop the Apocalypse without her. That part doesn't bother him. It should, but it doesn't. If she doesn't live, there is no point to his existance in this century. He was brought back for this. For her. She _cannot_ die.

His fingers brush against something decidedly _not_ water. His breath catches in his throat, halfway between saying her name again and a plea to the gods not to take her away now, and not like this. But then it's gone, his fingers colder than ever. This time, it isn't just panic coarsing through his veins, but now anger and sadness, pure helplessness that makes his eyes sting. He cannot lose her. He cannot do this without her. He _will_ not.

His own lungs feel strained. He reaches in deeper, one last ditched attempt to reach her because if he doesn't this time, he's going in after her. He doesn't care what is down there. He doesn't care if it kills him. He's prepared to to throw his coat off right when he feels skin again.

This time, he grabs ahold and doesn't let go.

Abbie's head breaks the water. Her eyes are closed. Lifeless. Ichabod leans over to get both of his arms around her and pull her out of the water. Her clothes are saturated, ice cold, and then he realises that that's not her clothes at all that's so cold, but her skin.

He knows he's talking, but he doesn't know what he's saying. Probably _Lieutenant_ over and over, and maybe even her name, but all that gets through his head is that _she isn't breathing_. She isn't breathing, which means that she's dead, and his vision blurs as the tears fill his eyes.

"What are you doing?! Give her mouth to mouth!"

Ichabod startles, blinking to clear away the tears as Hawley rushes up. He doesn't know what mouth to mouth is, and he hasn't the faintest idea what he's supposed to do but none of it even _matters_ because one of the two Witnesses destined to stop the world from ending is _dead_.

Hawley kisses her.

Something in Ichabod crashes right up to the surface and then falls back down. His own blood rushes loudly in his ears. Anger almost propels him forward - has this man no respect?! - but the numbness settles back into place before he can act on it.

And then Hawley is pumping her chest and Ichabod wonders vaguely what that's to accomplish, touching her so inappropriately, but too much of himself has shut down for him to even contemplate defending her honour. Maybe later, maybe after Caroline and Abigail's deaths aren't so raw in his heart, but he just feels so _defeated_.

How was he meant to save the world if he couldn't even save the one person he had given his entire life over to?

Abbie gasps and chokes, spewing out water and bile.

Ichabod jumps. Hawley falls back. Abbie _lives_.

Ichabod feels like his heart is going to burst. Instead, the tears return anew. This time, they fall, as his breath escapes him in a rush. He scrubs his sleeve across his eyes and moves forward to help Abbie.

He shrugs his coat off, his fingers clumsy on the familiar material, and wraps it around Abbie's shoulders. He pulls her into his arms, holds her close, and vows again that he won't let her go. He tucks her against his chest and drinks in the scent of her hair, somewhat marred by the murky water he's just pulled her out from. He relishes in hearing her rasping breaths and feeling her fingers curl around his hand.

Hawley's still sitting on the floor next to them. His arm falls away from his ear; Ichabod realises that he'd been on the phone. "I called for an ambulance," Hawley explains, dropping his hands into his lap. He still looks dazed. "Although I don't know how we're going to explain this one."

Ichabod sighs heavily and closes his eyes, resting his chin on Abbie's head.

When the doctors show up in one of their loud travel vehicles, Ichabod can barely pull himself away from Abbie long enough for them to take care of her. He knows that if he stays near her, he'll want to touch, to hold, to experience that she really is alive. So, he doesn't stay. He allows the mobile doctors to take care of her in whatever way they see fit - he can't even get started on medical practices in this century, he really can't - and stumbles off to where he had been looking for books before this travesty.

He looks for the numbers on the spines of the books with little enthusiasm. He knows that finding these books will be the key to finding the Weeping Lady, but his heart just isn't in it.

His heart remains with Abbie.

He just wants to get back to her, so he hurries to find the books that they need. And when he rejoins the group, and the mobile doctors leave, he forces himself to smile like his entire world hadn't just been crushed before his eyes. They'll rebuild it soon enough, he reckons, and seeing Abbie smile weakly back at him is a pretty good start.

 


End file.
